For good?

      Cameras.       There were so many of them that even the glare of the spotlights couldn’t hide the way Micah was clenching her fists behind her back. She hated it. She hated the way microphones poked at her face, the way reporters interrupted each other, shouting questions she didn’t want to answer. “Dr. Kline! Is it true that your discovery can make immortality a reality?” “How do you assess the ethical risks of cloning?” “Aren’t you afraid that the technology is being used by the military?”       Mica forced herself to take a step forward. She prepared a short statement — dry, technical, without unnecessary details. But it seems that no one wanted to listen to the statements. They needed sensationalism. “My work is all about regenerative medicine,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “We are talking about growing organs for transplantation, nothing more.” “But more is theoretically possible, isn’t it?” a journalist with a CNN camera kept up.       Mika felt a chill run down her spine. They’ve already figured it out. Or they think they understand. “In theory, “she said slowly,” a lot of things are possible. But science is not only “can”, but also “should”.”       This did not satisfy the press. The questions came back with renewed vigor. “Do you consider yourself entitled to decide for humanity?” “Do you plan to cooperate with biotech corporations?” “Why did you hide your research for so long?”       The last question made her wince. They were already digging deeper.       Suddenly, a figure in a dark suit appeared in front of her — a member of Novachim’s PR department smoothly seized the initiative. “Thank you for your questions, but further comments will be given later. Dr. Kline should now return to her research.”       She was literally taken out from under the attack of the flashes. It was quiet outside the office where she was shown. “You need to get used to the attention,” the PR said, handing her a bottle of water. “This is just the beginning.”       Mica didn’t answer. She was looking out the window, where drones with cameras were already circling behind the glass.       Run away.       But it was too late.       She belonged to the world now.       And the world, as it turned out, was much more dangerous than laboratory reagents.